I met Gary Baseman! Except, as expected, I was too nervous to actually talk to him, so it's more accurate to say that I saw Gary Baseman. Eh. It's better than nothing.

So as I was saying, I saw Gary Baseman yesterday at Robot Love in Uptown. Mr. Baseman was sitting at a table signing things that people bought. I wasn't really planning on buying anything at all--even though I love Robot Love and it's like a little trip back to Japan every time I visit, I've never bought any of their fantabulous vinyl toys or collectible figurines. Ultimately, I decided I wasn't a big enough Baseman fan to justify buying something just for the sake of having it signed. Just to stand in his presence was enough.

I was sorely tempted by some marked-down Flying FortressTeddy Troops, but I didn't spring for one of those, either. What I did buy was an awesome OBEY t-shirt. I hate most of the shirts I have now, plus most of them are way too big due to my baggy clothes phase. Still, I don't buy t-shirts much, because I'm tremendously picky now in a backlash against a promiscuous period of thrift store t-shirt accumulation. Also, I don't like buying new clothes because I know they won't stay new long. If I buy a crappy shirt, nothing will ever happen to it. On the other hand, I didn't have my nice Paris track jacket for a week before I dropped a pen and marked it up.

I brilliantly decided to wear my brand-new OBEY t-shirt while I ate dinner: a Portabella mushroom grilled in vegetable oil and soy sauce, stacked in a bun with all the fixin's. Sure enough, before I even took a bite, the whole thing slopped out onto my shirt. I soaked it in cold water immediately, but to no avail. The oil stains are there to stay. Moral of the story? To get my money's worth in skin coverings, I should stop buying t-shirts and get more tattoos.